


Black Ties And Bad Ideas

by bloodsoakedleather



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bathroom Sex, Frottage, Groping, M/M, Male Slash, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-19 04:05:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodsoakedleather/pseuds/bloodsoakedleather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cheap wine, too many double vodkas and a spilled cocktail lead to an unexpected encounter between Chandler and Kent in the men's bathroom at a charity dinner and dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Ties And Bad Ideas

When he’d first informed them that their presence was requested at a black-tie fundraising dinner and dance in aid of The Royal London Hospital, the entire team had let out one loud collective groan. Mansell, unsurprisingly, had immediately asked if he could just pay his eighty quid up front and skip the dinner, his question sparking a round of self admonishing grumbles from the others who all wished they‘d thought to ask first. An emphatic _NO_ from Joe and the threat of a few extra unpaid shifts had ensured that no one else had bothered to actually ask.

In truth, Joe didn’t really blame them for their lack of enthusiasm for the event. How could he when he had next to none himself? The whole thing was a Met public relations exercise, a thing he’d come to hate, as much as it was anything else and he was very well aware that his _required presence_ was another punishment from the powers that be for failing to fall in line and be the good little puppet they’d assumed he would be. The thought of spending and entire evening in a room full of complete strangers, making small talk in order to make them look good didn’t sit well at all.

Despite the order that they _all_ attend having come from much higher up than himself, Joe still felt guilty about making his team suffer through the tedious affair so he was a little relieved to see that they were making the best of a less than ideal situation. The copious amounts of inexpensive wine provided to each table during the meal helped, he was quite sure, but it wasn’t to his taste so he spent the later half of the evening making frequent trips to the bar to top up his vodka. He wasn’t drinking to get drunk he told himself, he was self medicating. It was either that or spend the rest of the night lining up empty glasses and counting the polka dots on the tablecloths.

Swirling the last few drops of his current drink around in his glass he scanned the room for his team. Ed had excused himself just a few moments ago, presumably to use the toilet, Mansell was flirting outrageously with one of the bar staff as she collected glasses from the tables, Miles was chatting animatedly with someone he recognised from outside of work and Riley and Kent were laughing as they stumbled around the dance floor in what he assumed was meant to be a waltz. Joe felt pleasantly… well maybe relaxed wasn’t quite the right word but he was close. As one song ended and another began, Kent was replaced as Riley’s dancing partner by Ed whom she’d accosted on his way back from the loo and Kent headed back to the table. Somewhere along the way the young man was waylaid by a clearly inebriated young woman in ridiculously high heels whose clumsy attempts to flirt ended with her losing her balance and somehow managing to spill her drink all down the front of his trousers.

Kent accepted the young woman’s profuse apologies with good grace, telling her it was quite alright and not to worry but as he returned to the table his annoyance was obvious. Scowling, he grabbed a paper napkin and started dabbing at the damp sticky spot, swearing under his breath when he saw it was making no difference.

“Bloody hell.” He grumbled. “Now I’m going to have to have to make a visit to the gents and see if I can wash this off.” Joe gave the young man a sympathetic nod and watched him leave, still grumbling. The song that Riley and Ed were dancing to was coming to an end so Joe decided it was time for another trip to the bar before Riley got any ideas about dragging _him_ onto the dance floor too.

“Not dancing then Sir?” A familiar voice asked behind him. Miles ordered himself a single malt and leaned back against the bar.

“Are you asking?”

The older man shrugged his shoulders.

“Might be.” He answered with a grin. “But I warn you, I’ve got two left feet, Just ask my Judy.” Joe grinned back at him.

“In that case I’ll give it a miss if you don’t mind. I’d rather not get my toes trodden on.”

“Probably a wise decision Sir.” He nodded thoughtfully. Both men laughed. “Hasn’t turned out too bad an evening after all has it?” Ray continued, looking out over the dance floor.

“No. I suppose it hasn’t.”

They fell into a companionable silence after that, each of them leaning against the bar as they sipped their drinks and surveyed the room. After a while Joe sighed and started to rub his temples.

“You alright sir?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, yes fine.”

Ray frowned.

“You sure? You look a bit peaky to me. Maybe you should pop outside for a bit, get some fresh air.”

Joe opened his mouth to protest but closed it again almost immediately. He did feel a little light headed now that he thought about it. Maybe it was the warm stuffy atmosphere or maybe it was the vodka, he wasn’t sure but fresh air suddenly seemed like a very good idea.

“You know, I think you’re right.” He said. “I could do with some air.”

“Off you go then. And don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on our mob while you’re gone, make sure they don’t start dancing on the tables or mooning people.” Miles called after him as he left.

Although Joe knew that he was joking he couldn’t help but shudder at the thought.

Once he stepped into the corridor though, he forgot about Miles and his peculiar sense of humour. The air seemed cooler and less heavy already and his head began to clear. Slowly, he made his way along the corridor. As he passed the men’s bathroom he noticed that the outer door was open a little way and through the gap he could see Kent, standing by the sinks still scrubbing at the front of his trouser, seemingly without much success.

Without any instruction from his brain his feet changed direction on him and instead of continuing on his original path he found himself standing in the bathroom with Kent. They younger man looked up as Joe pushed the door open a little further making it creak loudly.

“Hello Sir.”

“No luck then I see.”

Kent wrinkled his nose .

“No Sir. I dread to think what state that girl’s insides must be in, whatever she was drinking it’s like glue.” He looked down at himself, his brow wrinkling to match his nose, and he sighed heavily. The stain was worse now that when he’d started. The soapy water he’d used to try and counteract the stickiness had done little more than leave a cloudy white residue on the dark fabric and the blue paper towels he’d used to wipe it away had just clung to the remaining sticky patches leaving him covered in flecks of blue fluff too.

“Maybe I can help.” Joe said, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a small spray bottle of something. “It’s an emergency stain remover.” He explained as he handed it over. “Just spray it on, count to ten and then wipe. It won’t get it all out but I’ll get enough to make you presentable again.”

“You carry a stain remover with you Sir?” Kent asked as he took the bottle from his boss’s hand.

“Not all the time. But I’ve found it comes in handy on evenings like this.”

Kent frown disappeared and he smiled.

“Well, I’m glad you brought it with you tonight. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Joe smiled back.

Kent sprayed the substance and counted to ten as instructed, handing the bottle back to Joe, grabbing another paper towel from the dispenser and started to scrub once more.

“No.” Joe said as he took a step closer to the young man. “Wipe, don’t scrub, you’re just grinding it in even more. Here let me.” He took the paper towel from Kent’s hand, took a cotton hankie from his own breast pocked and wiped gently at the sticky area, with it, starting near the middle of Kent’s thigh and gradually working his way inwards. It didn’t occur to him until it was much too late, that this might be a little more intimate than was appropriate.

He froze as his knuckles inadvertently brushed against the slight swell of the other man’s crotch and a tiny whimper drew his attention away from his hand and to Kent’s face. Joe was completely unprepared for the look of raw desire he saw there. With his cheeks flushed pink, his pupils dilated and his full bottom lip caught between his teeth he was absolutely breathtaking and suddenly Joe found himself no longer able to deny the attraction he’d always felt towards the younger man or pretend he didn’t notice that the attraction was mutual. In this moment none of Joe’s previous, disastrous, attempts at romance seemed important. It didn’t matter that Joe had long given up on the possibility of an actual relationship or that he was Kent’s superior officer and as such it was utterly reprehensible of him to take advantage of this unforeseen situation. It didn’t matter that this was a huge mistake for all manner of reasons. All that mattered was right here, right now and the fact that they obviously both wanted this.

For a moment Joe hesitated, then he tilted his head slightly to one side and lowered his lips to the other man’s. Kent’s lips pressed back immediately in wordless encouragement, another small whimper building in his throat.

Though the kiss itself was close-mouthed and chaste, the way their bodies reacted to it was anything but. Blood thrummed through Joe’s veins, every one of his nerve endings tingled and his fingers twitched with an aching need to touch, reminding him of how intimately close to Kent’s body his hand still was. Emboldened by the lips that still pressed eagerly against his and the soft pleasured sounds that hummed behind them, yet for some reason still shaking with nerves, he took another step closer. Standing toe to toe with the younger man now, he gathered together every ounce of courage he could muster and slowly, gently moved his hand to cup Kent through his trousers, a sudden surge of pure lust running through his body when he felt the other man’s hardness beneath his palm.

“Oh God.” Kent murmured, pulling away from the kiss and shuffling his feet slightly apart so he could press harder against Joe’s hand without losing his balance. “Oh God, oh God.” He murmured again, rougher and breathier than before, the sound alone enough to drag a strangled moan from Joe’s throat. 

“Sir.”

“Joe.” The older man corrected, _Sir_ only reminding him of the inappropriate dynamic of this encounter, something he was unwilling to think about right now. “Just Joe.”

“Joe, I… I want…” The younger man’s eyes flickered down to his crotch and the now prominent bulge displayed there. His eyes flickered back to Joe’s. “Can I touch you? Please?”

 

Joe’s arousal spiked. He couldn’t remember ever having such a strong physical response to another person, ever. His own erection throbbed painfully beneath his woollen trousers. He couldn’t remember ever feeling such a desperate need to touch and be touched as he did right now. He nodded silently, unsure of his ability to form words. Kent licked his lips, red and swollen from a combination of nibbling and kissing, then he placed his hand over Joe’s cloth covered erection and gave it a firm but gentle squeeze.

Joe gasped at the sensation, his eyes slipping shut briefly as he fought to retain some semblance of control but the attempt was half hearted at best. His control was shot through. With his heart thundering inside his chest he surged forward, capturing the other man’s lips in another bruising kiss. His free hand came up to cup the back of Kent’s head, tangling in his dark curls, holding him there as his other hand continued to squeeze and caress. This kiss remained close-mouthed to begin with, as had the first, their lips moving slowly, almost reverently against one another’s. Joe’s were the first to part, an instinctive reaction to the other man’s gentle coaxing, not far but enough to allow just the tip of Kent’s to slip between. It had been a long time since anyone had kissed him this way, even longer since he’d been an active participant and it felt slightly strange but good heavens it felt so unbelievably good at the same time. The fleeting touch of their tongues made Joe jolt and Kent shiver. They were both flushed and panting heavily when they broke apart.

“Emerson.” Joe whispered hoarsely, resting his forehead against the shorter man’s.

“Joe.” He whispered back.

“This is not something I usually, _ever_ do.”

“What? Grope co-workers in public toilets? No, neither do I.”

“I’ve had far too much to drink.”

“Me too.”

“This is probably a really bad idea.”

“It’s a terrible idea.”

“And we’re both going to regret it once we’re sober.”

“Yes. We are.”

There was a pause, each man giving the other a chance to back out. A chance neither seemed to want to take.

“But I don’t care. Do you?”

Emerson looked up at him through heavy lidded eyes.

“God, no.”

After that things became a little hazy. Joe couldn’t be sure if he’d dragged or if Kent had shoved but either way they were both stumbling backwards, fumbling and tugging at belt buckles and zips and tripping over their own feet in their desperation until Joe’s back hit something and the door banged shut behind him.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a really long time.” Emerson moaned, slipping his hand inside Joe’s trousers and through the opening in the front of his boxer shorts to palm his erection. Joe realised somewhat belatedly, as his own hand worked it’s way inside the other man’s underwear, that he had wanted this for a long time too. It had just taken several double vodka’s and an accidentally intimate situation for him to finally be able to admit it to himself. 

The younger man wrapped his fingers around Joe’s length and carefully freed it from his shorts. Panting, Joe looked down at himself, hard and leaking and poking out obscenely through the gap in his clothing. His hand stilled inside Emerson’s briefs and he watched, fascinated as he adjusted his grip and slowly began to stroke.

“Good?” Emerson asked.

“Yes.” Joe nodded, eyes slipping shut as he tipped his head back, banging his head against the door.

The other man grinned.

“It gets better.” He said, and he swiped his thumb across the tip of Joe’s cock, gathering up a large bead of pre-cum and massaging it into the sensitive skin making him moan loudly. With his hand still stuffed down the front of the other man’s trousers, he couldn’t fail to notice that Emerson was as aroused as he was. The hot, hard flesh pulsed and twitched beneath his hand, practically begging for attention. Knowing that he was the one responsible for the other man’s current state gave Joe an unexpected thrill and made him brave. He made a loose fist around the other man’s cock and started to stroke, mirroring the movement of Emerson’s hand on him.

The younger man gasped and mumbled something incoherent under his breath.

“Wait a minute.” He rasped after a moment, withdrawing his hand.

“What…” He opened his eyes and saw Kent pulling wads of paper towels from the dispenser. He frowned curiously. Kent returned with the paper towels and carefully began to tuck them into the open fly of Joe’s trousers.

“No sense in both of us getting messy.” He said with a warm smile. Joe returned the smile, oddly flattered that under the current circumstances the other man was still considerate of his foibles and trying to ease any concerns he might have, even if Joe was long past caring about those things by now.

Once he was done he turned his attention back to his previous task and resumed his stroking. Joe found his own hand back in Emerson’s trousers, inelegantly eager in his attempt to release his erection from the confines of his underwear. The younger man batted his hand away and with his own free hand shoved both his trousers and briefs down a little way on his hips, fully exposing his cock and balls, then he gave Joe’s trousers a brief tug.

“Don’t want the zipper digging in.” He explained as they dropped to roughly the same level. He cupped Joe’s sac through the cotton jersey fabric of his shorts, massaging them with his palm, making Joe wish he’d worn looser shorts so he could feel the other man’s hand against his bare skin.

“More.” He rasped. “I want to feel more of you.” He felt himself flush, he was sure he must look thoroughly debauched like this and the dark, shamelessly lust filled gaze that met his when he looked down just confirmed it.

“I want that too.” Emerson groaned. “God, you have no idea how much I want that.” He drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “You’re a bit taller than me, bend your knees.” Joe did as instructed, relinquishing the last vestiges of control to the younger man. One hand moved to Joe’s hip, gripping tightly, the other took a steadying position on the door beside his head and then slowly, he brought their groins together.

They moaned in unison at the feeling of flesh against flesh. The hand on Joe’s hip, tightened its grip almost painfully and Joe’s own hands found Emerson’s hips, grasping them similarly. Emerson rocked his hips against Joe’s gently at first, his movements growing more insistent when Joe began to rock back. The thin fabric that separated their balls was infuriating but their naked cocks slid deliciously against each other, hot and slick and achingly hard. They quickly found their rhythm. It was desperate, impatient and lacking in any finesse but for them it was perfect. Both of them were consumed with the overwhelming need to please and be pleased, every thrust, every slide, every pull driving them closer and closer to their goal.

Emerson’s head fell forward, his breath coming in short, erratic bursts as he buried his face in Joe’s suit jacket.

“I… I… oh fuck.” He mumbled. He was close, very close, Joe could tell from the way his thrusts had picked up speed and he knew that he was just as close himself. Emerson’s hand, the one that had been grasping his hip, now worked it’s way in between their bodies and wrapped itself around both their lengths.

“Christ.” Joe muttered, thrusting up into the other man’s tight fist and almost losing it right then. It only took a couple more thrusts before his orgasm hit him. His eyes rolled back in his head, a rough cry caught in his throat and his cock twitched violently, streams of hot white semen erupting from the tip and spilling over Emerson’s still stroking hand. It seemed to be all that Emerson needed to tip him over the edge, cumming hard with a strangled sob into Joe’s shoulder, shuddering and shaking as he splattered his release between them, most but not all of it caught by the paper towels.

For several, long moments they stayed like that, leaning against each other, panting heavily while they waited for the tremors that wracked their bodies to subside. At last Kent pulled away, looking down at his cum covered hand with a an odd half grimace, half grin, then he looked back up at Joe and blushed deeply. 

“We should get cleaned up.” He said with an embarrassed mumble, pulling up his trousers and turning his back, heading towards the sinks to wash his hands. “Someone might come in and…” He trailed off, but Joe knew what he was hinting at.

“Yes, you’re right. We should.” He pulled the paper towels out of his fly and disposed of them in the bin, then he tucked himself back into his shorts and zipped up. 

“Emerson I, uhm…” He began, not really sure what he wanted to say.

“Yes Sir?” Kent answered without turning round, the sudden return to formality hitting Joe like a punch to the stomach. 

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter.” He said, an uncomfortable silence settling between them that Joe had no idea how to prevent. Did Kent regret what had happened between them?

Honestly, he was already beginning to regret it himself. Not the encounter itself, he couldn’t bring himself to regret that, but the awkwardness. If it was this bad now, how much worse was it going to be once they returned to work. There could never be a repeat of tonight and they both knew it but the thought of any lingering unease between them, any tension, anything that might make working together difficult, might even cause the other man to request a transfer made Joe feel sick. He didn’t want to lose Emerson, not now.

He could only hope that come morning, once they had both sobered up that one of them would have no recollection of tonight and he half hoped, half feared that it would be him.


End file.
